


Whiskey and Smoke

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2017 [24]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, First Time, Kinktober 2017, Rough Sex, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-01-21 06:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12451779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Jericho is The Wasteland in a body, and Amy is desperate to understand it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 22: Wall Sex
> 
> my days are a little fucked again. Honestly, the prompt for today was giving me trouble so I switched the days to give me more time on that one. So, here is smut. No redeeming relationship or fluff.

When Amy left vault 101, she’d expected to find many things: adventure, glory, her father. What she hadn’t expected to find was the vulgar, chain-smoking man in front of her. And following him behind a building to a secluded area of Megaton was not only unexpected but down right stupid. 

 

“I don’t work with fucking goody-two-shoes.”

 

“Caps are caps, aren’t they?”

 

He leaned forward, placing a hand on the wall behind her, leaning in. Whiskey rolled from his breath, along with smoke, and slid over her. “Yeah, they are, but it’s never worth it for folks like you. You drag me into shit I don’t want to be involved with.”

 

“You’re picky for a man who drinks away so many of his caps already.”

 

“Don’t just drink ‘em away. I also spend a hell of a lot of ‘em on whores.” He twisted, leering down her body. “Course, I guess you could save me some caps there.”

 

She swallowed hard at the scrutiny, at the promise in his eyes. It wasn’t when Butch had looked at her, in the vault, that playful innocence when neither knew exactly what they wanted. Jericho was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, who could give Amy exactly what she wanted even if she didn’t know what the hell it was.

 

“That’s a lot of confusion on your face, little girl. You even know what I’m telling you? What I’m offering?”

 

“Making love?”

 

He laughed hard, some spit striking her cheek. “No. Fucking, and that’s it. Not bullshit making love fantasies. I’m talking about hoisting those legs up and fucking you out here, against this wall. When you’re about to come, I’m gonna cover your mouth with my hand to keep you quiet. What do you think about that?”

 

“I’ve never. . .”

 

“Never had a cock? Well, that’s not a surprise, but fuck if it doesn’t get me hard thinking about it. You gonna spread those thighs for me?”

 

“Will it hurt?”

 

“Yeah, a bit. Who fucking knows, huh? It’ll be worth it, though.”

 

She bit down on her bottom lip, gaze moving over his face, his throat. He wasn’t a young man, not by a long shot. Still, he lived a life of hard work, and it showed, kept him strong. She had no doubt he could hold her up against the wall of this building and take her.

 

“Tell me yes.”

 

“You’re waiting for a yes? You don't strike me as the sort of man who asks permission for anything.”

 

He laughed again, that same deep rumble soaked in whiskey and smoke. “Yeah, I am. Learned my lesson before. Forcing girls causes a hell of a lot more trouble than the few minutes of pleasure are worth.” He drug his other hand up her side, cupping her breast in a gentle grasp. “Come on, kid. Like you didn’t know when you followed me back here to hire me that this was what you wanted.”

 

A breath shuddered from her once before nodding.

 

Jericho didn’t wait for anything else, didn’t pause to make sure she was sure. He’d gotten a yes and he was taking that. He gripped the zipper of her vault suit and pulled it down with a hard jerk.

 

It only took a moment before he had her naked, yanking the fabric from her, tearing her shoes off to get the suit off her feet. She had underwear on that he pulled off, but no bra. She’d never had a chest that needed anything more than the vault suit.

 

“Ah fuck, kid. They built the fucking vaults to keep bodies like this inside, didn’t they? Shoulda’ stayed in there, stayed away from predators like me.” His hand slipped between her legs, fingers rough and callused. He stroked against her slit, fingers sure. “Not that wet yet, huh? Just because you got no idea what you’re in for. Spread those legs and let’s get you soaked. This ain't much fun if you chafe me because you're dry as the fucking desert.” He dropped down to his knees, moving her feet further apart. He leaned in and licked between her legs.

 

All the things girls had talked about at night in the vaults were nothing compared to this. Those romantic ideas of lovers, of beautiful moments, Jericho drowned them in the way he devoured her. His tongue pressed against her, fingers spreading her open. He didn’t go slow, didn’t tease her, he just took, just demanded. It wasn't sweet or magical or any of the stories she'd heard. This was filthy and desperate and honest.

 

Her knees went weak, and she was afraid she’d fall over.

 

He reached a free hand up, so much larger than her, and shoved her back against the wall with it, tongue and lips never faltering.

 

“Come on, kid, get it over with,” he growled against her before dragging his teeth over her.

 

Amy gasped as her body tightened, as she couldn’t breathe for a minute. She’d touched herself before when it was dark and she had the room to herself, but it hadn’t ever felt like this.

 

Jericho didn’t give her a moment to recover. He stood, unfastening his belt, his pants, and hooked an arm beneath her leg. He pulled it up so high her hip ached, but that ache was forgotten when he pressed against her.

 

Just the tip entered her at first, and her body rebelled against it, still sensitive. Amy shoved at his chest out of instinct more than anything.

 

“Easy, little girl,” he said into her ear, his chest against hers, her toes barely touching the ground. “Just take a breath and it’ll get better. Gonna hurt like a bitch for a second, but then it’ll be over.”

 

The warning didn’t even sink in before his hips snapped forward, filling her with one thrust.

 

Her head flew back, hitting the wall hard, a whimper on her lips. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t reassure her. Instead, he reached down with his other arm to hoist that leg up as well, grasping both behind the knees. “You make the best-damned sounds. Maybe next time I’ll fuck ya’ your tight cunt out there in the wasteland, huh? Let you scream till your throat goes raw. Bet it’s a fucking nice sound. You’d like that?”

 

Amy nodded without even thinking about it because right then, it sounded great. Right then, anything sounded good. Even though it hurt, even though he filled her too much and her body burned and stung, it was all real.

 

It wasn’t the moments in the vault when she knew there had to be more when she suffocated beneath the Overseer, and the expectations and the rules.

 

The rules said she was supposed to be a good girl, but right then? Right then she wanted to fuck the rules because this man she had no business with felt amazing inside her.

 

“Knew vault bitches were the best. Hard up for real men, you girls get the wettest, always put out the best. Now, you got yours, let me have mine, huh?” He pulled out until he was barely inside her before slamming back into her.

 

The pace was too fast for any real pleasure. That creeping tension, the warmth she’d felt from earlier when he'd tasted her didn’t happen again. Should wouldn’t come a second time, not with how he took her, but even still she wanted it. She wanted to taste his brutality, his vulgar words. She wanted to lick the whiskey from his breath.

 

Amy set her hands on his shoulders, nails digging in while she let him set whatever pace he wanted. Wood slivers dug into her back from the wall he fucked her against, tiny bites of pain, and she loved it all.

 

He didn’t last long, or it didn’t seem like long. His pace got harder, erratic, and his breath hammered from his chest. “Gonna fill you up, kid. Give you so much it’ll be dripping out of you even tomorrow. You think your vault buddies would let you in if they knew you let an old raider like me fuck your cunt, huh?”

 

“Yes,” she whined softly, lost to the filth of the moment. “Fill me up.”

 

He groaned, jerked her against him before he emptied into her. His cock twitched inside of her, soft jerks that signaled each jet of come he left inside her. He pulled out, slow and reluctant, before setting her feet on the ground.

 

Amy winced at the unusual ache in her lower stomach, the one that said this was new, as she gathered her things. She dressed quickly, both silent. Only the hiss of a lighter and the deep breaths as he smoked let her know he hadn’t left.

 

Once dressed, Amy slid her pistol back into its holster. “Night," she whispered, no idea what she was supposed to say after something like that. 

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

She paused, turning to face him. “What?”

 

“Tomorrow. Meet me at the gate when you’re ready to go.”

 

“You said you don’t travel with goody-two-shoes.”

 

“You got my come leaking from your cunt, kid. Don’t think goody-two-shoes is all that accurate anymore, is it? Besides, like I’d pass up the chance for another go at you. Wasteland is gonna chew you up and spit you out, and I plan to get a few good bites out of you myself before it does. That is if you still need an extra gun.”

 

Amy’s gaze dropped to his pants, still unbuttoned though he’d tucked himself back in. “Yeah. I still need a gun.”

 

He grinned and slapped her ass hard enough it drew a soft cry from her. “Yeah, bet you do, kid.”

 

Damn him, even if he was right.  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of anything I'm supposed to be working on, have more Jericho smut because I love that filthy raider.

 Amy woke to someone touching her. Long, callused fingers rubbed against her cunt through her panties, the touch hard and sure.

 

She should panic. She should shove whoever it was away.

 

Instead, she let a moan slide through her lips.

 

“That’s it, little girl.” Jericho’s voice filled in anything she didn’t remember, whiskey spilling over her along with his breath. “You sure warm up fast. Fuck, wouldn’t have taken ya for a virgin if I didn’t fucking know it.”

 

Amy shivered when he slipped his fingers beneath her panties, through the leg opening, so he could drag his fingers directly against her cunt. Her thighs snapped closed at the sudden touch.

 

Jericho took his other hand and yanked her legs open again, pinning them open with his leg. “None of that, now. I ain’t into a chase.”

 

He stroked harder against her before sliding two fingers into her cunt. “Oh, listen to that moan. You’re wet enough. Come on, kid, ride me.”

 

Jericho grabbed her, pulling off her underwear and sliding her over him as he laid back. It was then she realized, he’d gotten naked already. He hadn’t been naked the first time, and she’d never had a chance to really look at a naked man.

 

She’d fooled around with Butch in the vault, but he’d never taken off his vault suit. Even if he had, it wouldn’t have been the body of the man below her.

 

This was a man shaped by the wasteland, by a life of fighting. Scars ran across his chest, his stomach, all signs of what he’d lived through.

 

It was what she liked about him, that he made no apologies for his life, for what he’d done. He was a survivor through and through, and even in the few days she’d traveled with him, he’d taught her.

 

“You’re looking at me like a common whore, ya know that?”

 

Her cheeks burned, and she turned her face away.

 

Jericho was having no part of that and grabbed her cheeks in a tight grip, forcing her eyes back to him. “I like it. Now get to it. Pretty sure you can figure this out. I hear those vaults educate all you fancy dwellers, means you’re smart enough to get my cock into you and ride me, ain’t you?”

 

Amy nodded, rising up to her knees. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, surprised by how soft the skin felt despite the hardness. She gave a testing stroke.

 

Jericho lifted a knee to knock her forward, and only her hand on his chest kept her from falling over. “Knock off the playing and get to it.”

 

She leaned up, rounding her back as she angled his cock up. She stroked him against her, more out of nerves than teasing, but tried to play it off like it was just a sexy move.

 

Not that she suspected he bought it, especially when he released a sound that came out a growl.

 

Amy pressed her weight down onto him, wincing as he filled her.

 

“Let me hear you, little girl. Ain’t any reason to be quiet out here. Hurts a little? Fuck, I like that, so let me hear it.”

 

She whined, breath uneven as she kept inching down. Finally, her body pressed against his, telling her she’d taken him all. Somehow he felt larger in this position, or maybe she was just more aware of him. When he took her, she’d only been able to take what he wanted to do. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything.

 

Now? Now she had to be the one to participate, to move and take from him.

 

Not that she had any misconceptions about who was in charge. He might be under her, but he was pulling the strings.

 

“Up and down. Ain’t that fucking difficult.” He lifted his hips, pulling a whimper from her.

 

Still, Amy did as he said. She placed both hands on his chest, fingers stroking against the scars there as she lifted herself an inch before sinking back down. Not bad. In fact, since she could go at her pace, as deep as she wanted, she enjoyed it.

 

His arm went behind his head, lips pulled into a smirk. “None of this bullshit. Fuck yourself on my cock, kid, and do it well or you won’t be getting off at all.”

 

She tried to glare, but another thrust of his hips had her gasping. Her hands gripped him as she lifted herself until only the head of his cock remained inside her before she came down fast. Jericho helped, at least he helped himself when he lifted his hips at the bottom.

 

“Oh,” she gasped, loud and surprised. It had stung, yet she wanted him to do it again.

 

“There we go,” he said with a chuckle, his free hand going to her hip to help her set a pace. “You look good above me like that. Fuck, ain’t never seen a prettier sight. Think I could almost put up with all your soft-hearted bullshit because of this. Something damned tempting about training a girl up, you know that? Teaching her all the shit she should know, shit you shoulda’ been taught in that vault, but hell, least you’ll learn it my way, now.”

 

His words swirled inside her head like the whiskey on his breath. Butch would never have spoken to her that way, even with all his arrogance, even with the way he liked to talk a big game despite being the virgin she knew he was. Even when he tried to dirty talk, it was stilted and clumsy.

 

Jericho managed it because he really didn’t care what she thought about it. It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t something to turn her on, it was just the truth. Everything he said, everything he promised, he planned to do to her.

 

He was a man to take what he wanted, and Amy wanted to give whatever it was.

 

She let her head fall back when he took over her pace. He had her move faster and harder than she had, a testament to what he wanted, but as it turned out, what she wanted as well.

 

“Reach one of those pretty hands between your thighs. Get yourself off for me, won’t you?”

 

She set one of her hands on his thigh behind her for balance and her other went to her clit. Her fingers grazed over his cock as it filled her, as he moved in and out of her cunt. She soaked two of her finger with her own wetness before sliding them against her clit, rubbing above it because she was too sensitive to touch it directly.

 

“Can’t wait to feel you squeeze down around me. You’re so damned tight already, bet it’ll get me off just from that. You want that? We ain’t in the city now, no one but me’s gonna hear you, can knock off this mute shit."

 

“Yes.” The word came out on a broken moan, especially when he snapped his hips up in the middle. “Yes, I want that.”

 

“Ain’t gonna go easy on you. But fuck, you don’t need easy, do you? Each time I go harder, you just shiver like it’s the best fucking gift anyone’s given you.”

 

She sped her fingers, and damn if he wasn’t right. Being filled up felt so different. His tongue had been amazing, but somehow having him inside her while she got close was better. It was some part that had been missing, something she hadn’t realized was missing.

 

Her breathing went ragged, her skin oversensitive. Each drag of his cock against her got her closer, but not quite there.

 

His chuckle made her uneasy, as it always did. It was scarier than a deathclaw's growl. He released her hip and knocked her hand away. “You play too much, girlie.” His thumb rubbed hard directly on her clit, sliding from the bottom without giving an ounce of care to how sensetive she was.

 

Her hips bucked until he pinched down on her clit hard enough for her to come. Her nails on his thigh gripped hard. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything as her back arched more.

 

He fucked her through it, the feeling of him moving inside her as she tightened too much in the best possible way.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned, low and rough as he came. He stopped thrusting, but that damned thumb kept rubbing her clit.

 

She twisted away from the touch as it set off small aftershocks that had her gasping and crying out. Her cunt tightened around him over and over as he kept at it, pulling every drop of come from him.

 

Finally, he relented, pulling his thumb away from her though his softening cock stayed in place.

 

She collapsed down onto his chest, cheek against his sweat covered chest, the rough edges of scars scraping against her face.

 

He ran his fingers through her hair once, a soft laugh. “Yeah, best fucking choice to follow your ass out here.”

 

“Even if it gets you killed?”

 

He grasped her ass with both hands, hips lifting to grind against her. It caused his pelvis to rub her over-sensitive clit, and the resulting squeeze of her cunt forced his cock out. It also pulled a moan from him. “Lived a long time already. Fuck, yeah, it’d still be worth it. Go to sleep.”

 

“I was sleeping. You woke me up.”

 

“You were sleeping in fucking panties like a tease. You were asking for it.” He used the grip on her ass to pinch her. “And unless you’re asking for more, you should shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

 

She lifted her head to glare at him and felt a little like a puppy glaring at a Rottweiler. “You’re old, remember? You won’t be ready for more for a while.”

 

He flipped her over, onto her back, moving above her, challenge in his eyes, one that said she wasn’t about to win. The arm he rested his weight on gripped her hair to hold her head still. “You’re right; you ain’t getting my cock again tonight, but it just goes to show how fucking young and stupid you are if you think that’s the only thing I can get into your cunt, little girl.” To prove his point, he reached between them and pressed three fingers into her.

 

She lifted a knee, planting her heel on the ground for leverage to squirm, but his grip was solid. “I’m sorry,” she whined.

 

“Not sure you are. You think fingers are all I can manage, either? Fuck, got enough things in our packs to keep you coming and filled up and begging all night if you refuse to sleep. Once met a whore who said anything can be a dildo if you’re brave enough, and I’m pretty fucking brave when it comes to your cunt. So, you gonna go to sleep or should I entertain myself?”

 

Her hips shifted as she felt every callus on his fingers, the bumps and ridges of each finger knuckle. “I’ll go sleep. Promise.”

 

He pulled his fingers from her, wiping them on her thigh before rolling off to lie beside her. “See, knew you could fucking learn, baby girl.” He tossed a heavy arm over her as he shifted on the sleeping bag that was too small for the two of them, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to go back to his own.

 

She opened her mouth to ask if he was going to stay there, but he tightened his fingers around her hip like a warning.

 

“Amy. . .”

 

“Night,” she rushed out and closed her eyes, instead. Jericho didn’t make idle threats, and he wasn’t the sort of man Amy would test.

 

At least, not right then. Maybe later she'd see how far she could push him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've become Jericho trash.
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
> Also, for any US folks, I hope you had a great Thanksgiving!

The man in front of them had tear tracks down his face, his hands held together as he pleaded. “Please help him!”

 

Amy wanted to help. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d walked out of vault 101, that she’d been forced to survive on her own.

 

At least, on her own until she’d found Jericho. The week she’d spent with him wasn’t long, but damned if it hadn’t been interesting. The man didn’t seem to possess any sort of morals, and yet he also seemed immune to anything the wasteland threw at them. He constantly kept her on her toes, teaching her what to watch for, what to avoid.

 

“You’re saying you got a kid around that corner?” Jericho’s lip curled up.

 

The man nodded. “He’s only five. Raiders came through and they got him in the leg. I can’t move him and watch out if the raiders come back. Please, I just need some help before he bleeds out.”

 

Amy started to walk forward. “Of course we-“

 

Jericho lifted his rifle and unloaded one shot from the hip.

 

The man’s body was thrown backward, landing in a heap on the ground. He didn’t even have time to scream, extinguished between one blink and the next.

 

Amy turned on Jericho and shoved his chest. “Why did you do that? Why would you do that!” She shoved again, but he wouldn’t budge. “He just wanted to help his kid!”

 

Jericho caught both her wrists in one hand and yanked her forward, against his chest. “You may think you know shit, but trust me, you’re fucking stupid when it comes to being out here. This shit stinks of a setup.”

 

“You don’t know that. Let me go!”

 

“No one does shit for anyone out here, and you keep trying? You’re gonna get yourself a bullet if you’re lucky.”

 

Amy pulled a hand away and slapped him. “Fuck you, I don’t need you!”

 

Jericho tilted his head the way that always had Amy going still, that reminded her he wasn’t just anyone. “You want me to go? You wanna fucking see? Let’s see, huh? Good fucking luck on your own, kid.” Jericho hauled her toward the corner and shoved her forward while he stayed out of the small space.

 

Amy stumbled, nearly falling to the ground before catching herself. She twisted, looking for the kid, the kid she’d have to tell about their father, the kid she’d need to find a home for now.

 

No kid laid on the floor there. Instead, two men stepped out from behind a dark corner. “Well, well. Didn’t figure we’d find something so pretty out here.”

 

Amy stood straighter and took a step backward. “That man said-“

 

“-that he had some little brat back here? Yeah, that usually gets the bitches back here. Men, you gotta tell ‘em it’s a wife or some shit. What do you got on your, honey?”

 

Amy reached for her pistol, but one of the men knocked it from her grip.

 

“I don’t have anything,” Amy said.

 

The man who’d knocked the pistol away laughed, his hand going to her hip. His fingers dug into her. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you got something you can trade with.”

 

Had Jericho left her? Had he decided she was too much work? Would he really just leave her?

 

The grip of the man reminded her that Jericho might be an asshole, but he also knew this world. He’d predicted this exact thing, hadn’t he? And she’d slapped him for it.

 

Just when Amy was ready to give into the panic, when she realized exactly how out of her depth she was, the familiar sound of his rifle filled the small space.

 

First, the man further away was hit. Two shots to the chest.  

 

The man with his hand on her twisted her, pulling her against his chest, using her as a shield. “So, you got a friend, huh?” He ducked to keep her in front of him.

 

“Let the kid go, huh?” Jericho didn’t lower his rifle and didn’t show any sign of caring how this all worked out.

 

“She yours?”

 

“Yeah, she’s fuckin’ mine. Managed to keep her alive so far, so I ain’t exactly looking to replace her yet. Let her go, asshole.”

 

The man pulled Amy backward, tighter against him. His arm wrapped around her throat, his other hand on a pistol though it only hung loosely at his hip. “What about-“

 

“-too late.” Jericho lifted the rifle and fired.

 

Amy’s was knocked backward, her cheek burning. She tumbled to the ground but rolled and scrambled away from the man. Warmth dripped along her face, her neck. A swipe of her hand revealed splattered blood.

 

Jericho had fired the shot into the man’s forehead and managed to graze her cheek at the same time.

 

Amy couldn’t breathe for a moment, blood on her hands, down her vault suit. She brushed her hands over the blood like she could clear it off. It only smeared over her. Somehow it mixed with her fear, with the man’s hands, his threats, with everything.  

 

She’d killed people, seen people killed, but she’d never had someone’s blood all over her.

 

Her back hit the wall, pressure on her throat that snapped her back to the present.

 

Jericho’s angry eyes met hers, his hand pinning her by the throat. “You fucking figure it out yet?”

 

“He could have been telling the truth,” she whispered back.

 

“Look, you want to pull this live and let live bullshit, then go the fuck back to your vault. Out here? Out here people are going to fuck you however they can and if you don’t get that through your skull, they’re gonna enjoy fucking you. You want to live, you gotta start fucking listening to me.”

 

Amy’s gaze went to the man who still twitched on the ground, gurgled moans escaping what was left of his face.

 

He pulled his hand away and grabbed her arm. “Perfectly good fucking lesson and you ain’t even listening. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

#

 

An hour later, he had her in a small abandoned house. He’d spent thirty minutes getting a hose hooked up outside for her to wash with. He’d fastened it to a rafter so it would pour the water down like a shower.

 

The idea of getting naked outside in the open made Amy hesitate. Open spaces made her uneasy as it was since open space wasn’t what vaults were made up of. The idea of being vulnerable and naked was worse. When she’d had sex with Jericho that first time it had been different, too lost in lust to worry about it. Out here?

 

She didn’t move.

 

“Ain’t no one around, kid. Get to it.”

 

Amy grasped the zipper and hesitated again.

 

Jericho released an annoyed growl before he moved in and knocked her hands away. He yanked the zipper down and stripped her out of her clothing. He tossed all the items in a bucket he’d filled with water already. “You ain’t getting into bed with me covered in blood. Even I got standards.”

 

Amy said nothing but released a yelp when Jericho pushed her beneath the freezing water. She tried to move backward, but he kept his grip on her arm.

 

His other hand rubbed over her face and shoulders, removing the blood. It had dried, so the bits on her cheek he used his nails to pick off. “You mute, now? Because stupid I can deal with, but mute is fucking annoying.”

 

Amy turned a glare on him, though with water streaming down over her, she doubted it meant much. She didn’t pull off threatening at the best of times, and soaking wet couldn’t make that image any better. “You could have shot me.”

 

“That what has you pissed? Get over it. We were there in the first place because you wouldn’t just fucking listen and I had to let you learn a lesson.”

 

“A lesson that had you almost killing me?”

 

He laughed an ugly chuckle. “Dramatic, ain’t you? You weren’t almost killed. You don’t get to my age as a raider without knowing how to fucking shoot.” He caught her chin and lifted it, tilting her head so her cheek was toward him. “Got yourself a nice little scar here to remind you to just fucking listen next time, don’t you, baby girl?”

 

She yanked, but he only tightened his fingers.

 

“I don’t care for this selfless bullshit you pull. It’s gonna get you killed, and I ain’t done with you, yet. So, tell me you’re gonna start listening, because my Daddy used to tell me that stupidity hurts, and you’re gonna find it’s gonna start hurting real soon.” When Amy still didn’t respond, he let her go. “Get inside and dry off.”

 

When she turned to go inside, he slapped her ass. The water still on her skin made the strike sting more, but damn her because what came out was a moan instead of a yelp.

 

“Yep. Still worth the trouble,” he said as she rushed inside.

 

#

 

Amy was already in the bed by the time Jericho came inside. The door closed and locked, smoke drifting over to her like a caller.

 

The table groaned beneath the weight of his armor, and his shoes clattered against the floor as he kicked them off.

 

At least they’d sleep in a bed that night. Sleeping on floors had grown tiresome, but this house had a bed. A filthy bed, but she’d tossed a sleeping back over the top of it.

 

Who cared about breathing in some mold spores in the big scheme of things?

 

He settled into the bed behind her, but she didn’t roll toward him, didn’t even acknowledge that he’d come in.

 

After a moment, he set a hand on her hip, beneath the blanket. He encountered bare skin since her vault suit was wet. The calluses of his fingers scraped against her skin, hand flexing in a tight grip before releasing. It didn’t give her the same start it had when the man in the alleyway had grabbed her.

 

He moved that hand down to her thigh and lifted it, pulling it back over his leg. It spread her thighs for whatever he wanted.

 

Amy left it there. Even with how frustrated she was with Jericho, the warmth of his body and the strength in his hands were things she wanted, especially after the day she’d had. He was harsh and vicious, like a snarling dog, but a dog who kept away the other beasts.

 

“There’s a good girl,” he whispered into her ear as he reached that hand between her legs. “See, ain’t always gotta be rough.” He stroked his fingers against her clit, then moved them to slide one into her.

 

Amy took her lip between her teeth to keep quiet, a losing battle as he toyed with her. Her hips tilted forward into his touch.

 

“Didn’t figure I’d be possessive. Fucked enough whores over the years that I don’t hold ‘em tight, but seeing that asshole with his hands on you? Yeah, didn’t like that a bit.”

 

He shifted forward until his body pressed against hers, the strength of it intoxicating.

 

Amy leaned against him as he fit his cock against her. She expected him to shove in, but he stilled.

 

His lips pressed against her ear. “Maybe it’s because I fucked you first. This cunt? Seems like mine, and I ain’t planning on sharing it. What do you think about that, kid?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes, what? What is it you’re wanting? Use those fucking words.”

 

“Yes, I want you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

He laughed, hips shifting forward to press his cock harder against her. It still didn’t enter her, but the threat and temptation was there. “I think you like having someone to take care of you, someone who forces you to do the shit you need to do even when you don’t want to. See, you’re the exact sort of brat who needs someone looking after them, someone to keep ‘em in line, someone with a firm hand. And fuck me, but I think I like doing just that. Tell me you want that.”

 

She reached an arm back, fingers digging into his side. “I want that.”

 

“Ask me to fuck you.” He thrust forward, the head of his cock pushing into her. “I want to hear the words, want to hear you say it. You told me off earlier, said 'fuck you' to me, so now beg me to fuck you instead.”

 

“Please fuck me,” she whined, voice soft and desperate.

 

He closed his teeth around her earlobe in a hard bite. He released it, voice low and rumbling. “Let’s try, ‘Please fuck me, Daddy.’”

 

The words had her pulling in a harsh breath. Really? He couldn’t be serious.

 

Except then he rocked his hips to push in a tiny distance then pulled back out. “Come on, kid, say it.”

 

Her eyes slid shut, teeth digging into her bottom lip. His growl in her ear had her whispering what he wanted to hear. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

 

As soon as the name came out, he snapped his hips forward and buried himself in her cunt. Her fingers tightened on his side as she sucked in a gasp.

 

Jericho’s fingers went to her clit, his pace fast. Each sound she made, the broken moans, the gasps, they only urged him on. His skin was warm against hers, his body familiar already. He pressed his lips to her throat, alternating between kisses and bites.

 

Amy twisted against him, her back arching away from him for a better angle, to let him deeper. Each thrust of his hips made her desperate for him. Nothing made sense outside the vault.

 

Since stepping foot in this world, Amy hadn’t understood a damned thing. She’d found a world harsh and ugly and foreign. Only Jericho made sense in the craziness, and only because he was everything she didn’t understand about the world. He was a part of it, he was everything wrong with the wasteland inside of one body.

 

So when his fingers pinched down on her clit, when his teeth bit into her shoulder, it was her connection to this new world.

 

She came with his name on her lips, and he followed after her. Even after he’d pulled out of her, he stroked his fingers over her cunt, avoiding her clit, like he wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

 

“You still mad at me, baby girl?”

 

“And if I am?”

 

He dipped two fingers into her. “I’d say to suck it up. I mean, I’ve been pretty fucking nice to you. Didn’t even punish you for slapping me or for ignoring what I said. Didn’t even hear a thank you from you. Could have put you ass up and spanked you till you got the point, but I didn’t. Maybe you should be making it up to me, instead.”

 

Amy rolled to face him, daring to look him in the face. She rarely did that, didn’t really want to see what was there. It seemed too intimate. “And how exactly would you expect me to make it up to you?”

 

“The way any good girl does: on her knees. Ah, I like that confusion you get when you ain’t sure about something. Makes me fucking excited to teach you. Yeah, it means exactly what you think it does. Get you down on those knees and put those lips to work doing something other than arguing with me. Can’t argue much with my dick in your mouth. Bet you’ll look pretty like that.”

 

What was there to say back to that? Her cheeks heated at the image, at the idea of it. Jericho wasn’t the sort of man to go easily. He’d set one of those large, scarred hands on her shoulder to shove her down to her knees. He’d undo his pants himself and grasp himself. She hadn’t examined him that closely, hadn’t had the chance.

 

He’d make sure she not only had the chance but made use of it.

 

She curled into his solid chest, against the scars, the rough patches of skin that showed what he’d survived. Maybe there was something there between them. Maybe there was some sort of future. Maybe whatever this was could be something more.

 

Amy sighed and closed her eyes. What the hell was she thinking?

 

There was no future between them.


	4. Chapter 4

 Amy moved closer to Jericho as they entered the Ninth Circle.

 

It wasn’t the ghouls that bothered her. She’d met Gob, had seen enough terrible people to realize being human didn’t make you any better.

 

It was the ghoul behind the counter that made her press against his side.

 

Jericho laughed before tossing his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the bar. “You nervous, kid?”

 

She took her seat on a stool when he pushed her toward it. “He’s bad news.” She nodded toward the ghoul behind the bar.

 

“Yeah, but I’m worse news.” Jericho took the other seat and waved over the ghoul. “Whiskey for me and a beer for her.”

 

“We don’t get many smoothskins down here.” The barkeep set a glass on the table, filling it with the requested whiskey before pushing that a beer across the bar.

 

“You mean a place full of corpses that smells like rotting meat doesn’t get many outsiders? Can’t imagine why.” Jericho tossed a handful of caps onto the bar before he took their drinks. He hooked the edge of Amy’s beer on the bar and popped the cap off before handing the bottle to her.

 

“I don’t drink,” Amy admitted.

 

“You don’t or you ain’t ever, because last I checked, you do lots of things with me you ain’t never done before.”

 

“I haven’t.”

 

He set a finger on the bottom of the bottle and pressed it up to lift it toward her lips. “Well you’ve liked everything I’d gotten you to try so far, so get to sucking that down.”

 

Amy lifted her beer and took a drink, face twisting into a grimace at the taste.

 

“Not to her liking?” The ghoul behind the bar leaned over, hand brushing over Amy’s hand. “I’m sure I could find something better for such a pretty girl.”

 

Amy tried to pull her hand back, but the ghoul wouldn’t release it.

 

“You already lost a lot of fucking parts, ghoul. Might want to remove your hand before I start taking parts from you, too.”

 

The ghoul pulled his hand back, a scowl on his lips. “Of course. If you need anything else, please let me know.” He retreated so fast, Amy almost laughed.

 

“Told you. He likes to puff up that chest of his, but he hires that behemoth in the corner because he ain’t got any balls of his own. Boy like that might send his goon after us, but he won’t do shit on his own.”

 

Amy took another drink of her beer, trying to finish the disgusting liquid off quickly. Maybe she could wash it down with a Nuka Cola afterward. She took a deep breath and gulped down the rest, coughing at the end.

 

Jericho slammed his hand down on her back twice, helping to spur her lungs into working right. “You want to suck down beer like that, I’ll teach you to shotgun it next time.”

 

She frowned.

 

His laughter caused her cheeks to flush. “Gets me every damned time when you don’t know shit. Never figured I’d like that. Always been a fan of some nasty women, the sort who’d castrate you soon as they look at you, the sort who you check for your kidneys and your shit when they leave. You ain’t like that.”

 

Amy set the bottle down on the bar top. “No, I’m not. Are you planning on trading me in?”

 

“Got no plans on that, no.”

 

Amy took a deep breath before twisting her bar stool toward him. “So what are your plans? What are you getting out of this? You’re chasing me around, keeping me alive, but I don’t get what you want.”

 

“I had nothing better to do, just wander Megaton, drinking and fucking. Only a matter of time until I crossed the wrong person.”

 

“So? It doesn’t explain what you’re doing out here with me. You could have gone anywhere.” She reached out and caught his chin in her hands. “What do you want?”

 

His eyes narrowed and he caught her thumb between his teeth in a nip. “Ain’t that clear? I want you, kid. Doesn’t make any fucking sense, but I want you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You looking to have your ass stroked here? Fine. I like that you need me, that you’d get slaughtered out here without me.” He leaned in so he could whisper in her ear. “I like how fucking wet you get for me, how you can look like an innocent little thing and yet you warm up like a seasoned whore for me. Love the way your cunt feels wrapped around me, the way you got this little edge of fear in those eyes like you ain’t sure you trust me, like you realize you’re in over your head.”

 

A shudder ran through her at his words, at the vulgarity of them, the truth of them.

 

“I like how you act above this all, but just a few words gets you going.” He reached a hand forward to cup the crotch of her vault suit. No one in the bar looked their way or paid them any attention. “You think I could get you off right here? Bet I could.”

 

She moaned when he pushed hard with his fingers, enough to press the fabric against her cunt. “Not here,” she whispered back. “Please.”

 

He bit down on her earlobe.

 

Amy’s moan was louder that time, wanton and like no sound she’d made before.

 

Even so, Jericho removed his hand from her and lifted his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. “Sure, baby girl, let’s go get you fucked, huh?”

 

#

 

Amy didn’t think she’d ever see Jericho stripping and not feel something. Part anxiety, part want, part second-guessing. He dropped his armor on a dresser in the small room he’d taken for the night. Pretty sure the room was a community room, but leave it to Jericho to claim it.

 

Not like anyone was gonna argue with him.

 

He’d removed his armor, his shirt, his shoes.

 

Would Amy every tired of the scars he carried? She doubted it. Her fingers drug over a deep one on his chest.

 

“You’re always stroking over the scars. They turn you on or something?” He pulled her zipper down, the same efficient way he always got her naked. He didn’t tease, didn’t try seduction. Nope, not Jericho, he was too practical for that.

 

“I like them. They’re proof of what you’ve survived.” She pressed a kiss to one scar, the one near his shoulder. “I wish I had some of my own.”

 

Jericho crouched down as he worked her vault suit over her ass and down her legs, scraping his teeth over her hipbone. “It’s my job to make sure you don’t get any scars. ‘Cept the one you earned on your cheek, course.”

 

He stood back up and took her lips in a kiss, grasping legs to lift them.

 

Her breath left when he slammed her against the wall as he claimed her mouth with his kiss.

 

He broke the kiss and attacked her neck, next. He wasn’t gentle, never was, his teeth scratching her, lips leaving bruised skin in their wake. “You taste like sugar, you know that? No girl tastes like you do.”

 

Amy laced her fingers behind his neck, clutching him to her. His words ran through her head and she hated to admit it, but he was right.

 

She liked that she could lean against him. She liked that she knew, without a doubt, he could handle whatever the wasteland threw at them.

 

He undid his pants in a clumsy motion, then shoved into her with a single hard thrust.

 

Amy’s head went back, slamming into the wall at the burn. He filled her so completely, forcing her to take him, knowing she could.

 

His hips snapped forward as he fucked her, leaving her neck alone to tug on her earlobe. “You take me like such a good girl, you know that? Fuck, you give in so well.”

 

After another few thrusts, he pulled out of her.

 

Amy released the most pathetic whine at the loss.

 

He pushed her toward the bed and slapped her ass hard. “I ain’t young anymore, and wall sex kills my back. Get into the bed.”

 

She followed the order, crawling into the bed, freezing on hands and knees when she realized she had no idea how he wanted her.

 

His warm hand on her hip had her jumping. “You skittish all of a sudden?” His chuckled relaxed her as he rolled her onto her back, having removed his pants the rest of the way. He crawled into the bed between her thighs, sliding into her cunt again.

 

Had they done this before? Face to face, like they were. . . something? What were they?

 

He’d fucked her against a wall, from behind, with her riding him. But they’d never done this, like lovers, like something else.

 

Her thoughts were silenced when he took her lips again, his thrusts having gentled, slowed. He fucked her like it meant something, his stomach contracting, his hips rolling forward.

 

His free hand went to her hip, fingers tightening around her skin, grasping and releasing in tiny clutches. He didn’t kiss her deep, more just brushed of his lips against hers, his panting breath spilling against her.

 

Whiskey. While she never wanted to drink whiskey, she wanted to lick it from his lips, to drown in it. It was just like him. Rough and painful and uncomfortable.

 

“Do you like this, baby girl? Does it feel good?”

 

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, her breasts pressing into his chest as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Yeah,” she whispered back. Then she tried it on, the term he’d demanded she used, the one she wasn’t sure about. She couldn’t just say it, though. She lifted her lips to his ear, nipping at the lobe like he’d done to her. “Fuck me, Daddy.”

 

Jericho’s groan was worth it. His hips sped, pushing in deeper. “Gonna take such good care of you. Always.”

 

And even if his reaction didn’t turn her on, once she’d stopped trying to overthink it, the name had her cunt tightening around him. Don’t think too hard, don’t try to unbox that shit, just enjoy it.

 

He took her harder, like any control he’d had snapped. It didn’t take long before he came, shuddering as he filled her. His forehead pressed against hers, lips teasing hers.

 

Amy squirmed when he pressed against her again before he slipped out of her. She hadn’t come, and if there was something Jericho was good at, it was winding her up. “I haven’t. . . “ She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

 

Jericho sat up between her thighs, lips pulled into a smirk. “Told you, Daddy’ll take good care of you.” He leaned down and raking his teeth over one nipple, her hips lifting in invitation at the touch. He didn’t stop there, though. He repeated the nip at her other breast and then dipped his tongue into her navel.

 

Before long he had settled between her thighs, lying on his stomach, his eyes visible to her between her legs. Fuck that was a look he could get used to.

 

He pressed two fingers into her, a filthy sound filling the room as he drew them out, covering in his own come. He lifted those fingers, offering to her.

 

Amy sucked the fingers into her mouth, cleaning them like she knew he wanted her to.

 

“There we go. See, you can learn. I like seeing my come dripping from you. I’ve come in you how many fucking times, now? Might’ve knocked you up, even. You ever think about that, kid? Think about you having an old raider like me’s baby? Fuck, you’ll look good, those tits getting bigger, hips filling out.” He drug his tongue up her cunt in a hard lick as he pulled his fingers from her mouth. “Yeah, guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

 

Amy opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he took that moment to suck her clit. His lips sealed around it, tongue toying with the bottom as he used the suction to drive her toward her climax.

 

He pushed those fingers back into her, hooking them up to rub against the spot that drove her crazy. He didn’t give her time to rest, to think. His fingers fucked her right over the edge, stroking her through her orgasm.

 

As she sucked in a shuddering breath, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up beside her.

 

He laid on his back and pulled her closer, setting her head on his shoulder. “What’re you gonna do when you find your dad? What are you expecting to find?”

 

Amy frowned, gaze lifting to his face, but his gaze stayed up on the ceiling. “I don’t really know, I guess.”

 

“You’re running around with an old raider, killing shit everywhere, and you ain’t got a plan when you find him?”

 

“I guess not. It’s just when someone leaves like that, you find them. It’s what you do.”

 

“Yeah? You used to getting left, baby girl?”

 

She lifted her shoulders in an attempt for nonchalance. “My mom died when I was born, and I didn’t really have any friends in the vault, and then my dad ran off in the middle of the night.”

 

He frowned, a look she rarely saw on his face.

 

“Jericho-“

 

He shook his head, pulling her closer. “Sleep.”

 

“But-“

 

“-We’ve done this before, and I always win. So shut those fucking eyes and go to sleep. We’ll sort out that bullshit in your head tomorrow.”

 

Amy rolled toward him, tossing her arm around his chest and her thigh over his waist, curling into his warmth. She tossed all those worries, the things she couldn’t control, the things hanging over her, away. She let him shoulder them for the night.

 

He said he’d take care of her, and right then? Right then, that sounded good.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Jericho cleaned the dirt from his rifle as Amy picked flowers in the dry lake bed below his perch on a rock. The sun beat down on him, drawing sweat that ran down his back, forcing his shirt to stick to him.

 

Not that Amy seemed to notice the heat. She never did. He suspected the vault suit was better made and helped because while she’d sweat, she never showed any signs of concern. She bent over another rock, searching the shaded areas for more flowers. They didn’t grow in full shade, but they seemed to like to grow in the areas around the rocks that got sun only part of the day.

 

The four she’d already found were braided into her hair, but she’d said she’d need another for the end of the braid.

 

Fucking kid.

 

Always pulling shit like this. Collecting comic books and pretty clothes and bullshit items he helped her haul around. She didn’t seem to get that the world was just waiting to fuck her over, like she had no damned idea what was in the shadows waiting for its chance.

 

Girls like her didn’t live long out there.

 

He still remembered his first real girlfriend. He’d been eighteen and in his first raider gang, near the bottom of the ladder but gaining footing. She’d been a farmer's daughters, because fucking hell, farmer's daughters were the sweetest shit ever.

 

They’d fucked for months, running off into the fields behind the brahmin pens. She hadn’t known what he was, but that was more because she didn’t want to know. He never hid shit.

 

He’d thought he’d marry the girl, that he’d get his own gang together and they could be king and queen of it. Gail had been her name; sweet fucking Gail. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, face way too trusting.

 

And then a group of super mutants had stormed her town and she hadn’t been so fucking pretty when he’d found her, strung up into one of their meat bags.

 

He shook his head to dislodge the memory.

 

Yeah, the wasteland liked to fuck sweet girls up.

 

Life had gotten its claws into Amy, too. The way she’d talked about people leaving her? Yeah, she had some scars even if her’s weren’t on her skin.

 

Amy dropped to her knees beside a rock, the position way too fucking tempting. Girl had a body that could drive him to his knees. When she’d walked into the bar that first day, blood on her cheek, eyes wide and frightened, he’d known he’d wanted to fuck her.

 

Wanted to get to her before the rest of the wasteland did, wanted to taste her before she got herself killed, or before she turned into him. Wasteland had a way of twisting people. You died or you changed. Only options there were.

 

Soon as he’d heard those noises she made, though, soon as he’d realized exactly how naive and sweet she was, he couldn’t let her go.

 

Jericho wasn’t an idiot. He had a few good years left in him if he was really fucking lucky, and he suspected his luck had long run out.

 

At 65, the only thing he could thank his whore mother for were the good genetics that meant even at his age he could keep up with anyone out there. Still, 65? He had ten years, maybe, and most of ‘em weren’t gonna be pretty.

 

He couldn’t think of a thing better than spending them with Amy. Her youth made him not feel so damned old, like he could steal some of it. He had strength and smarts and experience, and she had all that damned sweet youth and what she kept between those thighs.

 

Seemed a fair enough trade.

 

Movement across the lakebed caught his attention. Radscorpion. ‘Course Amy didn’t see it, she never saw shit.

 

He needed to work on her training because he wasn’t gonna be around forever to keep her safe.

 

Jericho lifted his rifle to his shoulder, aiming down the sights. He picked the thing off with a single shot that echoed through the lakebed.

 

Amy’s gaze jerked over to the dead beast, only about fifteen feet from her, then whipped it around to Jericho. Her lips slid into a smile.

 

Gratitude.

 

Fuck, he liked that.

 

What the hell was it about her that did this to him?

 

He’d fucked his way through the wasteland for decades, sticking his dick in about anything that said yes. They never hit him like this, save for sweet Gail. Maybe it was because they were all just like him.

 

Like it mattered. He’d never been one to obsess over the whys. Too many shitty things happened to worry about the whys and the it ain’t fairs.

 

He had his baby girl, and he wasn’t letting fuck-all happen to her.

 

#

 

Amy took the shot, Jericho’s rifle heavy and awkward in her hands. He’d set them up in an old warehouse, saying that the noise of the gun could draw ferals and other predators. Having walls muffled the sound and kept them from being surprised.

 

“You can’t hit shit, you know that?”

 

“Your rifle is too heavy.”

 

“It’s that heavy to give you power and distance, two things you need. You ain’t the get in close type.”

 

She lined up another shot, ignoring the way her shoulder ached from the practice, from the stress of repeated failed attempts. Another miss.

 

Jericho growled that low sound that said he wasn’t happy.

 

Why did she care? Why did she want to see him smile? That first time she’d managed to pickpocket someone, he’d beamed at her. She wanted to draw more of those smiles from her.

 

“Focus, kid. What are you going to do if a super mutant comes charging at you?”

 

“I’ll call for you?” She twisted her head to try and give him her best smile.

 

He didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he knocked the rifle from her hands and yanked her to her feet. He leaned forward until he was right in her face, some spit striking her cheek as he spoke, voice low. “I ain’t gonna be around forever, Amy. You’ve gotta learn to take care of yourself or this world’ll eat you alive.”

 

“I thought you weren’t planning on leaving me.”

 

“I ain't, but life is life. Doesn’t always give us a choice.” He gripped her hip and walked her backward to the desk. “You gotta start getting it into your head that you’ve gotta toughen up.”

 

“I thought you liked me soft.”

 

His eyes narrowed as he pulled her vault suit down. Leave it to Jericho to use sex to say everything, like it was a language all his own. He could tell her he was pissed, he was proud, he cared. He said it all as he took her, and she’d come to understand each nuance.

 

He didn’t take everything off, sliding the suit and her underwear down to her ankles, hooked in place by her boots he’d left on. He sat her ass on the cold desk, then pushed her backward until she laid flat for him. “I like you soft, baby girl, but I like you alive more.” He grasped her legs and lifted them, sliding his head between them so they rested behind him, and she couldn’t move. When he moved closer, it bent her knees and spread her open for him.

 

His fingers stroked her first, that same confidence he did everything with. He moved her like he owned her, and some part of her she hated to admit to loved it. “You will learn to shoot, and you’ll learn to stop being so fucking gullible, and I’ll fuck some sense into you until you do.”

 

“Is that what this is? You fucking sense into me?”

 

He shook his head before dropping to his knees. “Nah. Not fucking anything into you right now. Just need a taste to remind me why I'm not throwing you out on your ass.” His stubble scratched her as he drug his cheek against her thigh before moving to her cunt.

 

She tried to move from the rough attention, but he set his hands on her thighs to keep her still, thumbs spreading her open for him. He set the pace he wanted, hard and fast. It was how he did everything, forcing her to change, to learn, to adjust.

 

Jericho didn’t adjust to shit.

 

His fingers slid the hood of her clit out of the way, leaving her exposed to him. That was the thing about him, though. She was always exposed to him. She could act tough with a few others, people who looked at her like she could fix everything, but Jericho saw her. He saw her as the frightened kid she was, for the girl who just wanted a safe place in the damned world. She couldn’t bullshit him.

 

He released her leg and pushed three fingers into her. It was always a bit too much too fast, but he knew what she could take and would force her to. Her heels dug into his back, but if he cared, he didn’t say a thing about it.

 

Her hands lifted up and behind her to grasp the top of the desk, something to hold onto to, to help her thing.

 

Jericho wouldn’t let her think. He fucked her with his fingers while he sucked roughly on her clit. Before she could brace for it, she was coming, her hand smacking down on the desk as she writhed.

 

He let go of her clit with one last lick, though he didn’t stand, didn’t move her legs. His breath spilled against her cunt as she drew in ragged breaths.

 

“You’ve got to be more careful,” he said, voice lower than she’d expected it. He pressed a kiss to her cunt, tongue dipping in like he needed to taste more of her.

 

“I’m trying.”

 

A heavy sigh blew warm air over her clit, causing her to shiver as he lifted her legs from around him, then helped her to sit up. “You ain’t trying hard enough, baby girl.” His large hand gripped her braid, forcing her eyes to his. “You won’t be able to call for me when that super mutant attacks because I’ll just be fucking bones in the ground by then.”

 

She swallowed hard, a lump in her throat she couldn’t get rid of. Gone? She knew Jericho was older, a lot older, but she’d never really thought about what that meant. He was strong, virile, and unstoppable. He wasn’t going to die. She couldn't even come to terms with that possibility. 

 

He sighed like whatever was on her face was annoying before he took her mouth in a deep kiss, letting her swallow down the taste of her own cunt. When he broke the kiss, he helped her to her feet and pulled her vault suit back into place. “Now, get the gun and try again.”

 

“Now?”

 

He shoved her shoulder toward the discarded weapon. “Yeah, now. You won’t look so pretty inside a meat bag, trust me.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 He’d left her again. After finding her father, after rescuing him from that simulation, he’d just off and left again.

 

‘Meet me in Rivet City’ was all he had to say to her.

 

It had taken her a month of searching, a month of doing things she’d never expected to have to do let along to be capable of doing, and he’d left.

 

A thank you, a hug, and that was it. He’d walked out, leaving Amy there with Jericho.

 

Now she sat beside the fire, staring into it while Jericho scrubbed his boots. They’d both bathed in the river already and Jericho hadn’t done anything. When she'd stripped down, she'd expected him to bend her over, to fuck her. She hadn't cared one way or the other, but he'd done none of that.

 

He’d offered her a kiss and grabbed her arm when she’d slipped on a moss-covered rock, but nothing else.

 

She wore one of his shirts nothing beneath, her legs folded under her, hands holding the can of pork and beans in her lap.

 

“Eat your food, kid.” He didn’t look up from his job as he worked the cloth over his boots.

 

Amy stirred the beans in a can, the steam escaping the top, the smell having her grimace. “Not hungry.”

 

“Don’t care. Eat.”

 

She took another bite, forcing it down.

 

“Normally you fight with me at least a few more minutes before you give in. Don’t think I like seeing you quite this well-behaved.”

 

She couldn’t even find the energy to argue. Instead, she just ate more of the terrible food, the crackle of the fire a nice background noise to drown out her head.

 

She couldn’t think about it, not about her father, about the way he’d walked away again. That wound was too damned fresh. She'd cry, and Jericho wasn't the sort of man who wanted to deal with a girl's tears. The last thing she wanted was to annoy him.

 

Her gaze lifted to Jericho who, while not looking at her, she suspected kept a close eye on her still. Jericho hadn’t left her. He hadn’t walked away. Even when she’d fought against him, when she’d not listened, when he’d had every reason to turn his back, he hadn’t.

 

He liked to say it was because of what was between her legs but she wasn’t stupid. Naive, maybe, but not stupid. Jericho could find women anywhere, had plenty who gave him some suggestive looks at any of the cities they went into.

 

He could say what he wanted, but she knew damned well he liked her. She didn't understand why, but she didn't want to lose it.

 

Amy set the rest of the can aside and washed the taste away with a gulp of water. She scooted over on her knees until she knelt in front of him.

 

“Careful. You’ll scrape up your knees.” He kept his gaze down on his work like she wasn’t even there.

 

She set her hands on his knees, moving her hands on his thighs. The muscles twitched beneath her touch, especially when her thumbs dug into his inner thighs, hard enough a lesser man might have pulled away.

 

But not Jericho. He didn’t run from anything.

 

Amy kept her hands moving up until she could undo the button of his pants, fingers brushing against the warmth of his bare stomach. She pulled the fabric down as far as she could given he didn’t help a bit. In fact, he only lifted the shoe out of her way and continued his work.

 

Still, the rag scrubbed in tight circles that said Jericho wasn’t paying a lot of attention to it, which had her smiling.

 

She reached into his pants, grasping his cock and pulling it from his pants. The pants and underwear made it awkward, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to help. Instead, she leaned in and drug her tongue across the head of his cock despite it not being hard, yet.

 

The boot clattered to the floor forgotten, and Jericho’s hand wrapped in her hair. “Seemed you were wanting my attention, baby girl. What are you going to do now that you got it?”

 

Amy lifted her gaze to his, releasing his cock to yank once at his pants.

 

His lips tipped up before he lifted his ass to allow her to pull the pants and underwear down. They didn’t go far, but then again, they didn’t need to. He sat back down but never relinquished his grip on her hair. Still, he didn’t yank, and the grip was oddly reassuring.

 

She returned her attention to his cock, to the rather close examination. She hadn’t done this before, despite the times he’d mentioned it, the times he’d talked about it. It had made her nervous, and maybe he’d sensed it? As rough as he could be, he seemed to take into account her comfort.

 

At that moment, though, she wanted to. She returned her hand to his cock now that he was free of the cloth. He’d perked up some but still wasn’t fully hard. That almost made it easier, a little less intimidating.

 

“You seem to be paying awful close attention, there.” His voice rumbled out, that low tone that had her thighs pressing together.

 

She lifted her gaze to his, lips pressed together.

 

“You need some help there? Little guidance?”

 

She nodded.

 

He chuckled before he grasped his cock with his other hand, holding himself steady. “Why don’t you give my cock a nice kiss, huh? Right there at the head.”

 

Amy relaxed into his grip, into his orders. Hard to be nervous when she knew Jericho would guide her. She trusted him, the only thing in her whole life she trusted completely. She leaned in, and he followed her with the grip in her hair, a soft tension there that remained stable. She pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, rewarded when it twitched.

 

“Good girl. Now, take those sweet lips and keep up those kisses along it. Feel free to add some tongue when you want.” When not if. Jericho didn’t offer if.

 

That was why she needed this, because it let her shut off her head, let her just be there, just listen. She didn’t think about a thing beyond his flesh and hers.

 

She pressed kisses up his length, his hand shifted to keep out of her way, to let her play as she wanted. Her tongue snaked past her lips to taste him, and she risked latching her lips near the base and sucking.

 

He groaned. “Playing a dangerous game there, little girl.” Still, he didn’t stop her.

 

Amy repeated the motion on the other side of his shaft until she reached the head. He’d become fully hard, and the reality of actually trying to take that into her mouth seemed more troublesome.

 

“Trust me, won’t you? Ain’t about to go fucking your throat. We’ll take it slow. Slide those lips around my cock, not too deep, and keep your fucking teeth away.”

 

She did as he said, slipping him past her lips, the stretch of her jaw strange.

 

A growl when she scraped her teeth over his shaft had her using his lips to cover them. She closed her eyes as she focused on what she was doing, her hands on his thighs, lips only able to go as far as the hand he had wrapped around himself allowed it.

 

He was warm, skin softer than she’d expected. He was scarred and callused everywhere except there, something that startled her each time she touched him.

 

He did as he’d promised, not forcing her mouth further, not making her gag.

 

She added suction, pulling back enough to give her tongue room to stroke against him. She pressed the tip of her tongue against the slit at the head of his cock, collection the salty pre-come that had collected there.

 

His strangled groan had her repeating the action. She liked him sounding desperate and undone, liked knowing she’d done it to him.

 

She let everything go. All those worries, all the stress, and focused only on drawing more sounds from Jericho. She rubbed her hands against his thighs, curling her fingers to drag her nails over his skin.

 

A gasp and chuckle was his reaction, so she did it again.

 

His breathing sped, muscles twitching. She expected him to come with her mouth around him, and she was oddly excited by the prospect of swallowing his come like it was some other way to have a part of him.

 

So when he pulled her off him by her hair, it drew a surprised moan.

 

He hauled her up, into his lap. A cursory stroke of his fingers against her cunt to check of wetness was all she got before he guided her down onto him.

 

Amy dropped her head back at the fullness, at the sudden stretch. She didn’t worry about balance because if there was one thing she knew, it was that Jericho wouldn’t let her fall.

 

He wrapped an arm behind her, his other hand on her hip to set the pace for her. He pulled her against him, lips finding her throat to offer something between kisses and bites. Too much teeth to be kisses but not enough sting to be a bite. “You’re so damned warm. Always, every fucking time I touch you, you’re warm. Got any idea how long I’ve been cold? So fucking cold in this world, but you? You ain’t cold.”

 

Amy wrapped her arms around his shoulders, following his lead. He set a brutal pace, the one that kept all her attention, the one that stung at the top of each thrust in a way that drew whimpers from her.

 

He pulled back enough to capture her lips, teeth nipping at her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. The muscles of his arms flexed as he took over moving her, his hips lifting into each thrust.

 

She wasn’t close, but right then? Right then she didn’t care. She didn’t want to come, she didn’t want to feel any more out of control than she was. She wanted to just feel Jericho, the only solid thing in the world that just kept slipping through her fingers.

 

She’d left the vault and would likely never return. Her father didn’t care about her enough to even stay around. She’d lost everything. She had nothing anymore, nothing but the man who claimed her mouth with hungry kisses.

 

He groaned as he came, hands tightening down so hard she arched away from them. His cock jerked inside of her, and she squeezed down around him to earn a hard bite to her bottom lip. “You fucking brat,” he panted out, lacking any actual anger.

 

He reached between her legs, but Amy pushed his hand away. Instead, he caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “What’s happening between those ears of yours, kid?”

 

#

 

Amy wanted to hide, but fuck that. Jericho didn’t care for hiding, especially not with such a sweet little thing in his lap, his softening cock still inside her.

 

She met his gaze, tone petulant. “Nothing.”

 

“No? Why don’t you want me getting you off, then? Because I know you well enough by now to know you ain’t turning down perfectly good orgasms for no reason.”

 

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

 

The words dripped from her mouth, soft and quiet and hurting.

 

Fuck that father of hers. Jericho had seen that shit the moment that fucker woke up, right after Amy saved his stupid ass. He’d already been heading out that door without more than a quick thank you and a ‘maybe I’ll see you later’ hug.

 

And now the girl might be in his lap, but she was miles away. Her teeth worried her bottom lip despite the way he’d nipped it, her face tight and unhappy.

 

He might just kill that father of hers if he got half a chance.

 

But Amy didn’t listen well, and he didn’t talk that well. She’d dug herself into this bullshit hole of thinking he was gonna head out on her, and yeah, that was gonna happen eventually. She was gonna outlive him, so yeah, he’d leave her, but not a second before he had to.

 

So Jericho wrapped that arm behind her and shifted them, his cock sliding free, a disgruntled sound from his throat at the way the chill in the room felt on his wet skin.

 

He set her down on the ground beside the fire, his hips between her thighs to keep ‘em spread. “You ain’t a problem, baby girl.” He drug his fingers through the come leaking from her, and though her thighs tightened, she didn’t pull away.

 

“I didn’t mean-“

 

“-Yeah, you fucking did. I ain’t stupid, even if I talk like that. You’re all twisted up, thinking what? You’ve gotta get on your knees and not be a bother and then maybe I’ll stay around? Well guess what, you’ll get on your knees anyways because I enjoy it, and from how you were dripping so do you, but that ain’t what keeps me around.” He pressed two fingers into her, curling them up to find her sweet spot.

 

Her eyes drifted closed, but he pinched her thigh with his other hand. She gasped and snapped her eyes open, but if the way her cunt squeezed down wasn’t just a treasure, nothing was.

 

“Pay attention when I’m talking. I ain’t going anywhere. Believe it or not, I actually like you. Not just your cunt, though I ain’t got any complaints there.”

 

She jerked when he brushed against the right place inside her, so he continued to stroke there, his body helping to pin her down.

 

He leaned in as he fingered her so his lips hovered beside her ear. “So knock off this bullshit of you trying to put distance between us, hmm? Ain’t gonna work anyway; not letting you have a fucking inch of space.”

 

Her body responded so well. It wasn’t the practiced moves of a whore, the fake moans and the posing. He’d had years of that shit, of women who took his caps and gave him a good ride. He didn’t think badly of ‘em for it, but he could never go back to it again. Something about Amy, about how damned real and honest she was, it was something he’d been missing.

 

She made him feel young like he still had a whole life in front of him. Fuck, she made him think maybe he had something worth something inside of him.

 

Her cunt squeezed down around his fingers as she writhed, panting and close and so fucking pretty.

 

He slowed his fingers. “Tell me you get it, kid, tell me you’re hearing me.”

 

She dug her nails into his shoulders, so he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head.

 

“None of that. You ain’t getting off until I know you hear me. I want to hear you tell me you get it, that I ain’t leaving you, because as fun as torturing you a bit might be, I don’t want to be repeating myself and having this conversation again.”

 

Amy yanked at his grip, hips shifting to get him to move more. A frustration groan left her lips that devolved into a whimper. “Please.”

 

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

 

“Okay. I get it. You aren’t going to leave me.”

 

“And why I ain’t going to leave you?” He rubbed his thumb against her clit hard. “Focus, baby girl. You ain’t listening to Daddy right now.”

 

She gasped, and whether it was the touch or his words he didn’t know, didn’t care. “Because you like me.”

 

He smiled and latched his lips onto her throat, sucking hard to leave one hell of a mark. His fingers moved again into her soaked cunt, and he had her coming around him fast.

 

Jericho released her throat so he could watch her come, watch her twist, her face red, lips parted. Fuck, the kid looked good like that. Maybe it was because no one else had seen it. No one else had been inside her while she came, while she moaned and cried out and squirmed. It was something for him to see, only for him, all fucking his.

 

He pulled his fingers from her when she shivered, licking ‘em clean of his come and her slick, tempted to dive down between those thighs of hers. Fuck, she’d beg him to stop, her foot shoving at his shoulder while he drove her body into a second climax.

 

But she’d had a rough enough day as it was. Besides, she was tired. It showed in the way she yawned, in the bags beneath her eyes. She wanted to head to fucking Rivet City after that damned father of hers, and he didn’t have shit to do but follow her, which meant he was going to Rivet City.

 

So instead of any of that, he grabbed one of their shirts that needed washing and used it to clean her up despite the oversensitive whimpers from her. He pulled the sleeping bag over her before taking his spot in his chair.

 

“You’re not going to sleep?”

 

“Not just yet, baby girl.” He picked up the boot and went back to his work.

 

She drifted off to sleep as he watched over her. He could protect her from super mutants and raiders and fucking deathclaws. Him and his rifle and his experience could keep her safe from so much of the wasteland.

 

What he hated to admit was that some shit he couldn’t protect her from. From her father. From herself. From time.

 

Each of those things was going to fuck her over, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.

 

Helpless wasn’t something he’d ever felt, and it turned out he really fucking hated it.

 

There weren’t any enemies to fight to fix any of this, and the sleeping girl by his feet was gonna end up paying the price for it.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Amy looked over the railing of Rivet City. The water moved beneath her, crashing against the sides of the ship.

 

She hated the ship.

 

It reminded her of the vault.

 

Small and closed in. The stench of people all trapped inside, of fear of the outside, of everything she’d escaped when she left the vault.

 

It had driven her outside to catch the breeze, the fresh air, and the open sky.

 

An arm wrapped around her waist and a hard body pressed against her back. “Wondering where you ran off to, baby girl.”

 

She leaned against Jericho. “I needed some air.”

 

“Ain’t a fan of floating metal deathtraps?”

 

“It’s beached. That means it isn’t floating.”

 

He pinched her side, pulling a yelp from her. “Smart-ass.” His lips brushed against her neck.

 

“It reminds me of the vault.”

 

“Yeah? Always figured you’d like that, that you’d prefer your fucking vault to out here.” He continued his kisses to her neck, her jaw, the line toward her shoulder. "Fuck, half figured you'd try to drag my ass into a vault with you." 

 

"And would you follow me if I did?"

 

He didn't answer right away. "Yeah, I think I fucking would." 

 

She didn't let her surprise show. “I thought I would miss it, too. I missed it at first when I left, missed the walls and the ceilings. That’s what hit me first out here, how damned open everything was.”

 

His fingers slid beneath her shirt, tracing over her stomach, her ribs. “What changed it for you?”

 

“You.” The word slipped out without her thinking about it. She moved her hands from the railing to touch him.

 

“Keep those hands on the railing, baby girl. Want to keep you out of trouble. Now, go on. Tell me how I changed it.”

 

She put her hands back on the railing, rewarded when he dropped his fingers into the waist of her pants. They were too baggy on her, but her vault suit had started to fray at a few seams. Jericho had found her some other things, but as it turned out, finding things that fit proved harder.

 

“Focus,” he whispered before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth.

 

“You showed me I could have a life out here. Before you, I was in over my head. I didn’t know how I was going to survive, didn’t expect to. You helped me see I could handle this, taught me how to handle it.”

 

His breath warmed her cheek as he undid the button of the pants. He slid his hand into her pants and underwear. “And here I figured you were just with me because I fucked you.”

 

She tried to keep her voice even as if him fingering her didn’t affect her. “That’s part of it.”

 

He chuckled against her throat. “Yeah, bet it is. Let’s be honest, pretty sure you fucking love Daddy taking you, huh? Keep the hands there, little girl. Would hate to have to punish you.”

 

“Punish me?”

 

His fingers pressed into as she spoke, causing the question to trail off on a gasp. “Yeah. Had you a lot of ways by now, but ain’t had a chance to spank your ass. Want me to put you over my lap and turn your ass red. Oh, feel the way your cunt squeezes down at that idea. You like that, huh?”

 

She did like the idea. Something about Jericho when he was rough, when he moved her around, when he pinned her down, it never felt her feel afraid. It settled her, made her feel safe and cherished. He made her want things she’d never considered, things she’d never have admitted to wanting before. His experience and confidence let her relax and trust him.

 

He bit down on her neck. “Answer me.”

 

“Yes, I like it.”

 

“Good girl.” He sped angled his fingers inside her while the heel of his palm rubbed against her clit. “When I get you into our room tonight, I’m gonna fuck you, baby girl. Can’t wait. Put you on fours and take my time with you.”

 

The image flashed through her head, of him grasping her hips, of taking her until they were both soaked in sweat and she couldn’t move.

 

She came around his fingers, her knees buckling. His other arm wrapped around her waist to steady her, his lips moving against her neck, whispering.

 

She didn’t know what he said, couldn’t catch the words, but they were sweet, quiet. Even with the rough edge to his voice, they mattered. Didn’t even matter what they were.

 

He pulled his fingers from her and out of her pants, then caught her chin to turn her head for a kiss. Their lips slid against each other, and he nipped her bottom lip at the end as if reminding her he wasn’t one for sweetness.

 

“We should get back inside,” she said as she twisted around to face him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because my father wanted to talk to me about the next step.”

 

“And what do you want?”

 

She tilted her head up, eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, your father had a lot of fucking plans. Your plan was to find him. You did that, but it don’t mean you gotta keep up with this bullshit of his.”

 

“What else am I supposed to do?”

 

“Whatever you want, baby girl. That’s the point, ain’t it? You even ever think about what it is you want?”

 

She pulled away from him, surprised that he let her go. “I’m not going to turn my back on my father.”

 

He pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. “You gonna let him keep leading you around? He fucked up your past, and you gonna hand him over your future, too?”

 

Amy’s back went rigid. She fastened her pants, face all hard lines. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” she snapped.

 

Jericho let out a soft huff as she rushed inside alone.

 

#

 

Jericho wanted to punch the self-righteous asshole. James strutted around the lab like he was big shit, and the worst part was that everyone else seemed to agree.

 

They all oohed and ahhed over him and every little thing he said.

 

Fucking brainiacs. He’d gotten himself trapped out of the vault like a moron. Hell, the fucker’s eighteen-year-old daughter had fared better than he had. Didn’t strike Jericho as that smart.

 

Amy had followed her father around like a forgotten shadow. He’d turn to talk to her sometimes, basic little things, then turn all his attention to his fucking work.

 

And each time it happened? Amy’s smile would drop, hurt crossing her face.

 

Jericho grew tired of watching it and retreated down the hallway for a smoke. A guard would come walking by to tell him off, and he’d tell the guard to fuck off.

 

These pussy city guards were shit compared to who he dealt with.

 

“So, you’re spending time with my daughter?”

 

Jericho turned, cigarette between his lips, to find James behind him. “You usually ask questions you already know the answer to?”

 

“When they have to do with my young and impressionable daughter who is spending her time with,” he hesitated, lip curled up, “well, with you, yes I do.”

 

“Ask her if you want to know shit.”

 

“I have. She’s been vague. So why don’t you tell me.”

 

“She hired me. Not much to say.”

 

“And where did she get the caps to pay your fee? A man like you wouldn't come cheap.”

 

Jericho flicked ash on the metal floor. “I take what I need when we scavenge.”

 

James narrowed his eyes. “Make no mistakes, I am neither stupid nor blind. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. That is not the exchange of a hired gun and his boss.”

 

Fatherly concern? It scraped Jericho raw. The asshole didn’t give a shit about his daughter but wanted to get involved now?

 

Jericho’s temper slipped, and along with it any sense of decency he had. “You asking me if I’m fucking your little girl?”

 

Jame’s jaw ticed. “You are, what, three times her age?”

 

“And then some.”

 

“What, do you prowl around looking for young women to corrupt?” James’ fists drew into fists.

 

Fuck, Jericho wanted him to throw a punch. He’d love to have the chance to nail the asshole, to knock out a tooth or two from his perfect fucking face. All he needed was for James to just hit him. Amy couldn’t be pissed if her fucking father hit him first, right?

 

At least, not too pissed.

 

She’d get over it, eventually. 

 

“Not usually. Guess Amy was just something special, huh? Not like you did shit for her.”

 

“I protected her.”

 

“Like fuck. You trapped her in that fucking vault because you were a pussy, you didn’t teach her shit about real life, then left her on her own while you went on your own little crusade.”

 

“She was fine-“

 

Jericho twisted and slammed James against the wall, holding him by the throat. “She wasn’t fucking fine! If I hadn’t stepped in the girl would have been lucky to get killed out there. You haven’t done shit for her, too busy worrying about what you want. Fuck, that girl is still trailing around after you and you can’t even sit your stupid ass down and pay her some attention. No wonder she’s so fucking afraid of people leaving her, you been leaving her for a while.”

 

James wrapped his fingers around Jericho’s wrist and yanked, but could make no headway. “And what do you care?”

 

“Because I fucking love her, okay?” The words slipped out so fast, Jericho’s own eyes went wide. He released a low growl from his throat at his own fuck-up before he let James go. “Get the fuck out of here and stay outta my face, okay? She’ll be pissed if I gut you and I ain’t interested in pissing her off.”

 

Jericho shook his head and stormed off.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 Amy was going to kill Jericho.

 

Well, maybe not kill him. She was starting to suspect he meant far more to her than she’d realized. But, she’d hurt him.

 

Maybe.

 

The red marks on her father’s neck when he’d returned from the hallway, when he’d come back after following Jericho, had her temper slipping.

 

She’d let the two men go off on their own, hoping they’d circle each other, bare their teeth, but come to some sort of alliance. They both mattered to her.

 

Her father had raised her, had taught her what mattered, how to think for herself. He was her past, the only thing left of it. Jericho had taught her to survive in this new world, and he was her future. She’d wanted them to get along.

 

Hadn’t happened, though.

 

A few minutes after her father had followed Jericho, Jericho had returned. His face had been drawn into those pissed lines she knew so well. He’d gotten the same face when she’d tumbled down a sandbank and twisted her ankle.

 

He hadn’t looked at her, hadn’t given her a moment of thought before he took his spot on the outer corner of the room, arms crossed and scowl carved into his face.

 

Her father walked in a minute later, red marks across his throat. She’d traveled with Jericho enough to know what it looked like when he choked someone. Worse, the uncertainty on her father’s face? Her father had always had confidence on his side, an unfailing belief in his work if nothing else.

 

Whatever Jericho had done to him had shaken him, and that shook her.

 

So later, after a silent meal, after Jericho not saying anything to her the rest of the day, they stood in the room they’d taken for the night.

 

Her father had drawn his eyebrows together when she’d said they only needed one room, and Jericho had huffed out that sarcastic laugh he had, but neither said anything.

 

Jericho held the beer he’d gotten at the bar as he shrugged off his coat. It fell in a heavy heap on the dresser.

 

Amy drank her water, gaze on Jericho while she tried to hype herself up. She’d already set the room up for what she planned when he’d been gone, for her own little petty revenge.

 

How dare he touch her father. How dare he think he got to tell her anything about her life.

 

“Keep looking at me like that and you’re going to end up flat on your back, baby girl.”

 

“Isn’t that what you want?”

 

His eyebrow cocked up. “Getting you on your back doesn’t take much for me.”

 

Amy set her hand on his chest and shoved him backward. “Maybe I want you on your back.”

 

He walked backward, but she got the sense it was due to him moving and not her pushing. His lips quirked up on one side. “Ain’t opposed to letting you on top, kid.”  

 

Amy’s fingers wrapped in his shirt as he sat on the bed. She pushed him down as she straddled him. “Maybe I’m tired of being passive.”

 

“Oh really?” His tone had this amused edge to it like she was doing some trick he thought was adorable.

 

Amy leaned in, but instead of the kiss she’d normally give, she bit down on his bottom lip.

 

Jericho growled, a deep rumble from his chest before he returned her kiss, matching her kiss in aggressiveness, then topping it. His teeth tugged at her lip, his tongue taking. His muscles shifted beneath her, subtle flexing as if he held himself back from more.

 

She caught his wrist when he reached for her and pinned it to the bed beside his head as she controlled the kiss, taking as she wanted. Something intoxicating swamped her at the feeling of controlling him for once.

 

All his strength, all his viciousness, owning that made her head spin more than she'd ever thought. Amy wasn't like Jericho; she wasn't strong and capable, and having all that beneath her, at her control, it had her growing wet. She ground her hips down against him so his cock rubbed her clit through their clothes.

 

She stretched his arms up higher, distracting him with a kiss before she snapped the cuffs she’d already placed on his wrists. It hooked his arm above his head to a pair of handcuffs wrapped through the headboard of the bed.

 

Jericho yanked hard. “The fuck you doing, baby girl?”

 

Amy sat up and removed her clothing in a rush. She should do it slowly, tease, but her nerves had gotten the best of her. “I told you, I don’t want to be passive.”

 

“You ain’t never complained before. Might want to act tough right now, but we both know you come every fucking time I get my hands on you, passive or not.”

 

She scooted down enough to undo his belt, then his pants. “Maybe I’m sick of bending to your will, _Jericho_.” Her nails scratched down his stomach, over his hipbones. The ridges of his stomach caught her attention.

 

He didn’t have the body of a twenty-year-old. He’d gained a layer of fat over his muscles through the years, but the definition still showed. Dark, coarse hair ran down in a line from his navel before covering his groin. She revealed it when she pulled his pants down.

 

Jericho didn’t complain or struggle when she moved down to unlace his boots then remove his pants.

 

She kept her hands tight on his thighs as she moved them up his leg, digging into the muscles. The motion caused his legs to spread when she reached his groin, bracketing her hands on either side of his cock. “It’s frustrating that you’re so arrogant,” she said.

 

“I don’t think it’s that frustrating. If I wasn’t, you would have never let me between your thighs that first night. You were just waiting for someone like me to come around. Admit it, you like it.”

 

“You talk too much.” Amy drug her fingers up the length of his cock in a feather-light touch before she moved up his body. Her thighs bracketed his head, her knees pressed into the mattress between his head and his bound arms.

 

“You think I mind this? You don’t know me at all then because getting you wet and moaning is a fucking favorite of mine.” He swiped his tongue up her slit, dipping between her folds before he nipped at her.

 

“You always have something to say.” She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his head. It’d be easier if he had hair she could wrap her fingers in, but this would have to do.

 

“Well-“

 

She didn’t let him get further before she dropped her hips and pulled his face up, forcing his lips against her.

 

That growl he did, the deep sound, it rumbled against her and had her moaning when he didn’t struggle.

 

No, Jericho wasn’t a man to struggle. He straightened his tongue and pushed it into her, his hands pulling once at the cuffs like he couldn’t help it, like he wanted to wrap them around her hips to hold her still.

 

But he wasn’t in charge for once, so Amy shifted her hips to ride his tongue. He shifted enough to latch his lips around her clit, lips moving until he could move the hood and torment it directly. The touch was almost too much, too hard, too damned good, but she let it wash over her instead of pulling away.

 

Pulling away was giving in, was admitting she couldn’t handle him. She needed to be able to handle him, so she enough pushed her hips down more, fingers digging into the back of his head to keep him still, to use him.

 

She looked down between her thighs, and his eyes? The promise of retribution there, the absolute lust? It pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm surprised her, hitting her fast and hard. She rolled off him to let him breathe as she gasped.

 

She set her head against his chest as she shuddered, tired and oversensitive and still angry. Stupid to think one stolen orgasm would make her feel better.

 

A hand grasped her hip, and Amy jerked back.

 

Jericho moved fast, rolling her to her stomach and pinning her down with his larger body. His cock, hard and leaking pre-come, pressed between her thighs. He leaned in and bit down on her neck. “You think a man like me can’t pick some cuffs, baby girl?”

 

“If you could have gotten out at any time, why didn’t you?”

 

“Because you wanted to show your teeth. You wanted to snarl some at me. Figured I’d let you do it before I remind you my teeth are a lot fucking bigger.” He fit his cock against her but didn’t enter her. No, this was worse. Each shift of his hips ground his cock against her clit in a painful stroke that had her throwing her head back and gasping. He put a hand on her hip, and his other wrapped in her hair to pull her head back. “You know, if you just wanted to get your cunt eaten, you coulda’ asked. Didn’t need to pull this shit with me. Ain’t like I ever turn you down.”

 

“It’s not-“ She shuddered when he pressed against her clit again.

 

“-ain’t about that? So what is it, huh? What exactly has crawled its way up your ass and gotten you all riled?”

 

“You choked my father!”

 

He paused, hand flexing on her hip. A breath later, he pulled his hips back, just an inch, just enough to let her think. “Yeah, I did. And you know what? If he were anyone else, I’d have slit his throat for pissing me off. Because I didn’t want you upset, I let him go. So when he came out there for a dick measuring contest, I wasn’t feeling too generous about it.”

 

“He’s all I have.”

 

“He ain’t shit. He’s a man who left you alone. You coulda’ been killed in that vault the night he ran, could have been killed on your way to Megaton, and he didn’t think about that at all. He was too busy thinking about himself. Even now, he doesn’t give a shit about what you do, too busy on his own fucking quest. That’s the truth, baby girl, and I know you don’t want to hear it, I know you want to think he’s some hero, but I ain’t about to let him talk shit like some big shot when he couldn’t even take care of you.”

 

#

 

Amy’s eyebrows pulled together, and Jericho loosened his grip on her hair. He hadn’t wanted to say that shit to her, to have to put it out there.

 

Girls always thought too much of their fathers. That shit was hard-wired into ‘em, and he could see the pain on her face as she had to admit that. . . maybe her father wasn’t who she wanted him to be.

 

Jericho pressed a kiss against the bite he’d left on her throat. “He ain’t all you got, baby girl. You got me now, and I ain’t leaving you alone like he did, not for anything.” He shifted his hips until his cock caught, pressing into the softness of her cunt.

 

He didn’t thrust into her hard, sliding into her in a slow advance, letting her get used to him as he pressed kisses to her neck, to her shoulder.

 

She shuddered, a soft whine on her lips as he filled her. Her hand reached up and behind her to grasp the back of his neck and keep him close.

 

Yeah, he liked that. The way she reached for him, the way she wanted him.

 

Even pissed as she’d been, as she probably still was, she wanted him. He didn’t fucking deserve it, wouldn’t ever earn it, but then again, he’d never worried about earning shit. He took what he wanted, and somehow he’d done enough for Amy to want him, too.

 

“That’s it,” he whispered in her ear as he kept his thrusts slow, teasing. “Gonna take such good care of you. Stop worrying, stop trying to overthink shit, just fucking feel me, huh?”

 

She moved her hips back toward him, lifting them off the bed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

 

“Shut up, kid, I ain’t pissed at you. You can try to force my head between your thighs anytime, but if you just ask nicely, you’ll find it’s more fun.” His stomach muscles tightened as he fucked her.

 

He wanted to flip her over, to see her face, to feel her legs wrap around his hips. Nah, she’d had a hard day, and he’d already tortured her enough. When he fucked her from behind like this, nothing was rubbing up against her clit. Gave her a nice break, and it seemed she could use it. So he kept her on her stomach, contenting himself with the way he wrapped around her. His arms were braced on either side of her, his knees outside her thighs, his whole body like a blanket over hers. She seemed so small beneath him, and fuck him because he liked it.

 

He held off for a while, happy to just feel her. Nothing like a warm cunt, like a willing body.

 

No, he knew it was more than that. He’d had those for years. Whatever this was with Amy, it was more, way more, even if he’d never say it.

 

Love bullshit was for good people. That shit was for people like Amy, not for him. He didn’t deserve that, wouldn’t ever understand that. He was just too fucking old to deal with that nonsense.

 

Eventually, he couldn’t hold it off anymore. The call of her body, the way her hips moved her back against him to take him deeper, it all proved more than his self-control. He held her down as he filled her, his face buried against her neck.

 

He rolled off her and to his back, groaning at the tightness there.

 

Yeah, not a fucking kid anymore. Seemed the days took more out of them than they used to.

 

Fuck. How long would it really be before he couldn’t take care of himself anymore? Before he couldn’t take care of Amy?

 

What the fuck was he going to do? And the whole unpleasant line of thought had him thinking about something else, something that had been bothering him, something he couldn't ignore anymore. 

 

Amy lift her head and set it on her arm. “Why’re you frowning?”

 

“You ain’t bled.”

 

“Bled?”

 

He laughed at the confusion on her face. “Yeah. Come on now, you ain’t young enough to not know what I’m talking about.” He set his hand on her lower stomach.

 

“Oh.” Her cheeks went red and she twisted her face away. “How would you even know? That’s private.”

 

“Nothing about this cunt is private from me. I spend enough time down there, I think I’d notice if you were bleeding. Now, lotta girls, they ain’t regular. Radiation is hell on the body and all.”

 

She didn’t speak, didn’t answer what he was asking.

 

He caught her chin and made her look at him. “You regular before, baby girl? Every month sort of thing?”

 

She nodded, taking her lip between her teeth.

 

Jericho ran his thumb over that lip. “Well then, looks like I might have fucked a baby into you, sweetheart.”

 

Her eyes widened, dropping down to where his other hand still pressed against her lower stomach. “I’m. . .” She swallowed, a loud gulp.

 

“Could be. What do you think about that?”

 

“I don’t know.” Her tone came out concerned, but not upset. Probably swamped with the same fears he had, the uncertainty.

 

How could she take care of a kid? Wasteland wasn’t exactly a safe place, wasn’t the sort of place that let kids live out happy little lives. Nah, it liked to break everything weak.

 

Instead of saying anything else, because he fucking knew he wasn’t any good at it, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

 

He’d figure out a way to keep her and his kid safe, even after he couldn’t do it himself anymore.


End file.
